One Singular Sensation
by AidenB
Summary: One smile and suddenly nobody else will do. I like to call this edgier fluff. Sarkney. Standalone.


**One Singular Sensation**

**Summary: One smile and suddenly nobody else will do. Standalone. Edgier fluff**

**A/N: I was just humming this song randomly and thought, hey why not write a fic for it? Hope you like this.**

**Disclaimer: It's on my user page.**

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**_One singular sensation, every little step she takes._**

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She glided across the floor, the train of her beautiful ruby red dress skimmed the floor with gentle strokes. Her hair fell across her face in delicate sugary blonde waves. Okay, she was beautiful. Even Julian Sark could admit such a thing about a woman he so loathed. She moved her way through the crowd, air kissing, batting her dark lashes but he knew the real reason behind her flirtation with the many bachelors in the room. And it had nothing do with attraction.  
Sydney spotted him across the crowded room and her eyes flashed with annoyance, but then she went back to her act. He smirked. He could have some fun here.

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**_One thrilling combination, every move that she makes_**

* * *

Sark pressed the gun into her thigh all the while as they danced. Sometimes even he was a little too twisted for his own good. But how else was he going to keep her quiet. Kiss her?

Now there's an idea.

Sydney danced with him stiffly, trying not to react or she'd blow her cover. An impish thought appeared in his mind and he slid his arm gently around the low drape of her dress and he swirled circles over the small of her exposed back. She stiffened and leant in to whisper something in his ear.

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**_One smile and suddenly nobody else will do._**

* * *

Her breath was soft against his ear but her words weren't . "I'm going to enjoy torturing and killing you, you perverted son of a bitch" 

Sark had, had his fun he smiled politely and she gave him the falsest but most beguiling smile she had, her French accent already in place.

"A pleasure Agent Bristow" he smirked

She dug her heel hard into the centre of his foot and then smiled in mock apology.

What a bitch.

He released her and watched her disappear back into the crowd.

* * *

**_You know you'll never be lonely with you know who!_**

* * *

Sydney Bristow was fun to work with…or against as was the case with them. He had to admit it, he enjoyed their banter, he enjoyed their unorthodox relationship. If it could even be called that. It was something all right, something between them that no matter what happened the other would come out bruised and pissed off but alive or smug and bruised and a little regretful that they hadn't killed the other. But then again there was always next week.  
One moment in her presence and you can forget the rest Sydney stared at him from the glass wall that separated them. He was the one within touching distance of the precious artefacts they both needed. She kept her eyes on him all the while and slowly raised the hem of her dress, he was distracted by her long legs, but not too distracted that he missed the small gun strapped to her thigh. She took aim.

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**_For the girl is second best, to none, son_**

* * *

The glass sprayed down at him like rain as he ducked the searing lead bullet. He heard her curse and for a moment as her heels crunched against the glass she deliberated between beating him senseless and the artefacts. Reluctantly she ran for the artefacts. Only Sark wasn't giving in that easily.  
Ooh sigh, give her your attention "Well aren't we in a pickle" he smirked and she snarled Beautiful.  
Their guns were both aimed at each others heads, sirens blaring out into the building. If they didn't act fast they'd both be caught or have to leave sans the artefact. 

"It would look like it, but I really would rather just shoot you dead than anything else" she hissed He tutted at her in a patronising tone.

"Now, now. I'm sure we can reach some sort of…agreement" he trailed off and raised an eyebrow at her, relishing how much he riled her up by just smirking.

Sydney dived for the artefact and he fired his gun.

* * *

**_Do… I…really have to mention…_**

**_She's…the_**

* * *

He missed. More to his surprise he was trying to miss. She stared at the still smoking bullet hole in the wall beside her, inches from her beautiful head. Sydney knew that there was no way he could have just missed. Unless… 

"Shall we" Sark extended his hand to her and she stared at him as if he'd just told a joke Sydney stood up slowly and then turned to face the glass door, she could hear the pounding of footsteps

"Let's go" she muttered gruffly.

* * *

**_She's the…_**

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They ended up in a dark dubious black alley in the back streets of France. Her blonde wig was off and her natural brown hair fell around her face. She was breathless and she had the artefact. It should have been so easy to just kill her and be done with it. 

"Stop staring at me you pervert"

God he loved her attitude.

"I'm not staring I'm thinking" he snapped back, he wasn't really annoyed, he just really was thinking.  
"Don't hurt yourself" she muttered

The rain slashed across his face and they stayed in silence like that, listening to the rain fall and cars drive somewhere in the distance.

"Thanks"

Well that was unexpected.

"Why don't you come with me?" he suggested, sounding a lot less casual than he'd hoped. Maybe he liked her more than he cared to admit

"Okay" she said so softly he almost didn't hear it

That was even more unexpected

Sark took her hand and pulled her close towards him. She stopped breathing and met his crystalline blue eyes with her rich chocolate brown eyes. He was scared too, he was screwing his whole life away and for who? Sydney Bristow. That was who.

What if this was all a set up?

She kissed him hard on the lips, her hair was still soft, despite the rain. And he had the answer to his question.

"I think I love you" he gave her one of his patented smirks. How had he gone from wanting to kill her (in the loosest sense of the word of course) to telling her he loved her. He supposed his admission had been long coming.

She brushed her lips with his "You still annoy me but yeah, I think I love you too" she gave him one of her own smirks, her heart pounding with adrenaline at the prospects ahead of them.

Hand in hand they walked down the rain streets of France to the nearest hotel. Sark had just decided to run away to God knows where, with Sydney Bristow, his sworn enemy. He was screwed and god help him if he wasn't going to love every minute of it.

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**_She's the…_one.**


End file.
